Of Smoke and Mirrors
by Ember Hinote
Summary: By day and to the public eye, he is Victor Nikiforov, the living legend, the skating god, 5 time World and Grand Prix Champion. But as soon as dusk falls, all the things that go bump in the night come out to reveal themselves. Not everything is how it seems and everybody holds their secrets. It's hard not to be involved when your coach is the head of Russian Intelligence.
1. 1st Skate: Firebird

He could see it now.

Running through the snowy streets and into small hidden side streets that most foreigners would easily overlook, but then again, even some locals would overlooks these hidden passage ways. One would need a specially trained eye just to find them and that eye took time to develop. Either that or one would be required to study the city's infrastructure, development maps, and real estate. Studying the general trends of a city would also be rather useful in figuring out how to navigate it as well. But he doubts that any "local" person would ever do something like that.

His target; however, would.

If there was anything that he knew just from observing his target's movements, it was that this person was definitely not from Russia. Or Europe. No. Their movements seemed to carry a more fluid grace about them while still remaining very controlled something that he noticed about Asians. He could reason it out to the stereotype that it was because of martial arts training but he had to admit – with his current target – it might actually be true.

Victor scowls as he suddenly lost sight of his target. The tall silver haired man stops and quickly looks around in an attempt to catch even a hint of where the other had gone. But too much avail, he was unable to find anything. He was all alone on this cold winter's night with just the moon and stars to keep him company. He curses himself for that mistake, for falling into his thought and losing track of his target because of this. Losing your target was a rookie mistake and with how long he has been in the field, Victor Nikiforov not in the position to be making such errors.

"Firebird, do you copy?" says a familiar male voice into his ear piece.

A frown crosses his face. "I lost him," says Victor simply as he looks around once more. "That bastard got away."

"Really?" the shock in the other male's voice was evident. "The Great Victor Nikiforov, the Russian Firebird, lost his target?"

"Hush with that tone, Georgi," retorts a sharp female voice, "If you were out in the field, you would have lost Vitya's target too. They have slipped out of the hands of many of our previous agents."

"But still-"

"Return to base Vitya," says the woman this time in a sweeter tone, "we'll need to regroup."

"Understood," nods Victor as he continues to scan his perimeter for anything at this point, anything that he could possibly work off of. He absolutely refused to leave the scene empty handed, not when he had been so close this time. The tranquillizer should have worked! It had been working, but how could he have lost them?

Victor does a quick scan of the area and that's when he sees it towards the northwest corner of the courtyard. It was something that anyone would be able to easily over look if they hadn't been paying attention. Victor hurries over and observes the tiny drops of red in the white snow. Blood. His target had been bleeding and had done a good job hiding it until now. This tiny slip up meant the world to Victor. That meant that his target could not have traveled too far because in their line of work; no matter how small the injury, it could easily become a great hassle to deal with later.

"So the living legend finally graces us with his presence," comments the same female voice from before.

"Milochka."

The red haired woman smiles back at him cheerfully before giving him a small wave. Standing beside her in the hotel room was a tall man with his dark hair styled similarly to a pompadour with a point so sharp it could cut. Georgi attempted to stare him down with a smug look but it was far from being effective. Both males knew that compared to Victor – despite Georgi possibly being his biggest competitor in age and experience – he did not have the drive, talent, or work ethic to possibly compete with him.

"It took you long enough to get here," scoffs another male voice. Victor quickly turns his attention to a blonde teenager sitting on the couch flipping through Instagram with a scowl on his face. "Stupid, old man."

Victor allows for fake tears to form around his eyes as he launches himself at the teen. "Yura! Why must you be so mean?"

"Oh pull it together Vitya!"

"What are you children doing?" The group of four quickly turns their attention over to the newest presence in the room sitting in a recliner.

He was old and wrinkled but still carried himself as a man of great power. The man was not too tall and had a very stocky build with balding grey hair. With one look in his eyes, you could only guess what hardships he had had to deal with in life. One could only guess what kind of missions he had to complete and what his eyes would have had to see in order to get to where he was now. Victor shudders slightly at the thought of that. Whenever he thought of his Commander, the first thought that always came to mind was that Yakov Feltsman was not a man that Victor Nikiforov wanted to ever be. The thought of ever becoming someone like him frightened him. But Victor had to admit, probably because of his experiences, that was why Yakov always held his small group of agents so close to him. They were the best team in all of Russia – all members of Russian Intelligence – and had only gotten that far because of Yakov.

"Sorry Yakov," says Mila apologetically.

"Hmm," hums Yakov as he looks around at his group of children – talented children that he had personally scouted nonetheless – but children all the same. "I heard that you had lost your target in the field, Vitya." He watches as Victor bows his head. "Don't look so disappointed. The one you are after is the Kitsune; they have escaped every other agent before you and unlike every agent before you, you were at least able to injure them."

He watches as Victor nods back at him. "We will capture that fox and show the world we are not a force to be messed with! Now hurry to bed. The Grand Prix is tomorrow and Vitya, I need to in top form if you are going to win gold!"

With the declaration, the group began to retire to their rooms for the night. That was the guise that they all chose to hide under. No one would ever guess that the best intelligence team in all of Russia was a group of Figure Skaters. No one would ever guess that the Russian Firebird – a living legend amongst hit men – was Victor Nikiforov the Russian Ice Skating Hero! If someone were to even bring it up, it would be quickly dismissed as impossible due to Victor's fame and widespread fan base that sought to capture his every move on film.

Just as Victor was making his way out Yakov stopped him. "Vitya."

"Yes Commander?"

"Do not be disappointed in your performance tonight," says Yakov, "I know you will be able to bring Kitsune down."

"I was just so close!" hisses Victor, "I nearly had Kitsune in my grasps!"

"Vitya, it is all right," says Yakov, "Lilia and I gave you the alias of Firebird for a reason. The Firebird can be a glowing symbol, a bright blessing or the bringer of doom. You have been a blessing to Russia and a doom bringer to our enemies. I know you will succeed. Think about that."

Victor does not dare to turn around and look Yakov in the eye. He knew his Commander only wanted to encourage him to do his best. If anything, for the 20 plus years that he had worked with him, Yakov had been like the father he never had growing up. He might as well take that advice to heart.

Somewhere in the very same hotel, there was another preparing for the Grand Prix Final, gritting their teeth in pain and despair knowing that tomorrow would only be their worst skating performance.


	2. 2nd Skate: Kitsune

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yuri! On Ice**

 **Hi! My apologies for not having a proper introduction in the first chapter, but my name is Emi. This idea has been marinating in my mind for the past few weeks and now I am so happy to share this with all of you. This is Victuuri and I hope that you all enjoy this and will continue to enjoy this.**

* * *

He should have known that this would have been a bad idea. He had told himself numerous times that this was not going to end well that night. He had too many things to do tomorrow with stakes just as high as they were tonight, but did he listen? Of course he didn't! It was how he achieved the prestige, ranks, and respect of his peers. It was because he dared to go out and do these things on his own whim and desires. The Yuki-Onna would get on to him for taking such risks but she was always satisfied with is results at the end of the day.

But this time, he really should not have done this.

He had completely underestimated how cold it would be and his finger had slipped on the trigger releasing a dull click. His eyes widen in shock at his finger slip. He had meant to pull the trigger but instead he had revealed his location without obtaining results. He slips the weapon into its holster and takes off running. He had to get away from here as quickly as he could.

A gasp of pain escapes his lips as he felt a sudden pain in his right hip. Yuuri gives the area quick glance as he pushes forward in his running. Sure enough there was a small, bleeding puncture wound. It was about one centimeter in diameter and he was already being to feel the effects of it. His legs were beginning to numb. Yuuri did not know how much longer he could keep up this pace; he had to lose his pursuer quick!

As soon as he had arrived in Sochi, Yuuri had taken to studying every single map that he could get his hands on despite its age. He had also taken time outside of practice just to wander around a bit to get a feel for the city and to double check everything that he had learnt about the city layout. Many of the hidden side streets and shortcuts that he had seen on older maps were still around though they were not featured on the newer versions to his chagrin. Quickly, he began to duck down every side street that he could find in an attempt to lose his pursuer and make it back to his hotel.

When he could hear his pursuer growing too close to him, Yuuri quickly ducked behind a building and pressed himself against it. His hand was hard over his mouth hidden beneath the red and black surgical mask that he wore. He needed to calm his heart and steady his breathing, quickly. He could hear the crunch of snow beneath shoe soles and that only made his heart thump even louder. The footsteps grew closer and closer to his location and Yuuri wanted nothing more than to scream in fear, but years of training kept him from doing that. He spends a few seconds attempting to still the shivers that want to spread throughout his body and quiets his breathing as much as possible before a Russian voice slowly drifts to his ears.

" _I lost him. That bastard got away."_

This was his chance. While whoever his pursuer was, was distracted by their conversation, now was his chance to escape. He musters what feeling is left in his lower body and darts in the direction of his hotel as fast as his injured leg will carry him, leaving his persistent pest/pursuer in the cold Russian night. As he ran, he removes the red and white kitsune half mask from his face and lowers his hood. He shoves the item into the pocket of his coat with the black and red surgical mask before replacing it with a regular plain white one. No one even so much as glanced at him as he made his way towards the elevators and into an empty one, quickly fishing out his phone.

Katsuki: Help.

Chulanont: ! What happened?

Katsuki: I'll explain later, but help.

Yuuri lets out a heavy breath that he had known that he had been holding as he slumped against the back wall of the elevator. His legs were entirely numb but his hip stung. He heard the ding of the elevator doors sliding open and immediately he found himself in the warm embrace of another. It was not long before his best friend, Phichit, released him and threw Yuuri's arm over his shoulder so that he could support him. Phichit guided his injured friend back to their room before forcing the Japanese man to lay down on the bed.

As he lay on the bed with Phichit taking care of his injuries, Yuuri could not help but feel disappointed in himself. This was the first time in three years that he had gotten injured in the field and it had to be now of all times. First he did not get any useful information, second he had been caught, and third he was injured! How was he supposed to skate in the Grand Prix tomorrow? Especially with Victor Nikiforov – his idol and the absolute god of skating – there! Today just could not get any worse could it?

Yuuri was quickly brought out of his thought as soon as he heard his phone ringing. Phichit had stopped what he was doing and had gone to answer it. Yuuri attempted to sit up in bed just as Phichit was returning with his phone in hand and a morose look on his face as he handed the mobile device back to his friend.

* * *

Yuri Plisetsky could not be any more excited today than he had been his entire life. Today was the Senior Men's Single Competition in the Grand Prix Final and his favourite skater, his idol, would be competing! He had always looked up to the fantastic Japanese skater with the amazing step sequence ever since the other man's career had started! Yuri loved watching as Yuuri Katsuki improved in his skating and he was eagerly awaiting the day that he would skate a perfect routine.

To call Yuri Plisetsky a Yuuri Katsuki fanboy was an understatement. Yuri Plisetsky had every single poster of Yuuri Katsuki ever published. He also had just as many unprinted pictures of the Japanese Figure Skater – thanks to a certain Thai skater and Social Media Junkie – saved on his computer's hard drive at home. He had just as many images and videos of Yuuri Katsuki saved on his computer and laptop as he did cats! Sure most skaters his age would look up to his rink mate, Victor Nikiforov, but to Yuri, Victor's performances were a bit lackluster in comparison to Yuuri Katsuki's. But this would be the first time that he would ever see Yuuri Katsuki skate live and in person.

Yuri did not want to say exactly what he had to do – and who he had to threaten – to get the seats that he did.

It took every bit of his self control and will power to keep from jumping to his feet and cheering on loudly for Yuuri Katsuki when he took the ice. But almost immediately as soon as the Japanese man had stepped out on to the ice, Yuri Plistesky knew that something was wrong. He could tell that Yuuri Katsuki was in pain. It might have been because of his own training as a Russian agent that he could easily read supposedly hidden facial expressions and contortions. This was bad. Yuuri Katsuki was obviously injured from what he could see and he was still skating out on the ice.

Just as always, Yuuri Katsuki's step sequence was gorgeous from what Yuri Plisetsky but all his jumps were garbage to Yuri's surprise. Yuri had seen Yuuri perform that season on live streams and on Youtube. Normally Yuri would be able to land at least 80% of his jumps but today was just awful. Yuri was at the edge of his seat as the Japanese skater finished his performance. He could see the disappointed and frustrated look on his idol's face. Yuri wanted nothing more than to go up to his idol and give him a pep talk, compliments, as well as some of his grandfather's amazing pirozhki. But at that current moment, all he had was the fluffy brown poodle plush that he had bought to give to his favourite skater and threw that on to the ice instead.

Yuri didn't need to see the five other male skaters that day, including his rink mate. They didn't catch his interest in the slightest. Instead of watching uninteresting performances (why would he bother watching Victors? It wasn't like he hadn't seen it in practice over and over and over again…) he buries his face in his phone skimming every social media outlet he could think of, trying to figure out exactly what could have caused his idol so much pain and cause him to mess up as he did today. All he saw were "articles" were speculations of his idol's retirement and if anything, Yuri Plisetsky could not stand for that and promptly left.

As he was making his way through the halls of the stadium, Yuri's eyes quickly caught the sight of a familiar black Japanese tracksuit making its way around the corner. Excitement bubbles inside of him at the thought of possibly meeting Yuuri Katsuki and he quickly makes his way after the older man, only coming to a stop when they arrive at the men's restrooms. He thought to wait a few minutes before entering only for a heartbreaking sound to reach his ears.

Coming from one of the stalls, Yuri Plisetsky could hear Yuuri Katsuki speaking in soft Japanese and crying. His eyes widen in surprise when he hears his idol crying behind the closed door. Yuri could understand that Yuuri was disappointed in himself; after all, this had been his first Grand Prix Final and he was in last place. Today had been the worst performance of his entire season as well. Yuri stood there debating what he should do at that point. He wanted to meet his favourite skater but he also wanted to cheer him up and motivate him like a good fan. That was when the idea struck him and he promptly gave the stall door a harsh kick. Yuri could hear the tears coming to a stop and the locks clicking so he quickly puts on the harshest and toughest look on his face. Yakov would be so proud to see Yuri using his motivation technique!

"Sorry," chokes out Yuuri Katsuki as he opened the door and appears in front of him.

As soon as Yuuri's eyes landed on him, Yuri could almost see Yuuri beginning to tremble in realization. He knew that he had a reputation as a bit of a punk so it was understandable.

"Hey!" he says sharply, pointing at Yuuri's chest. "I will be competing in the Senior Division next year. Maybe it's time for you to retire. I don't think we need to Yuris in the same bracket." He then got up on his toes and up close – so very close – to Yuuri Katsuki's face before screaming. "LOSER!"

With that he quickly left before his idol could see the burning blush on his face from being so close to him. Yuri could not believe that he did that. Yakov would be proud to see him encouraging another skater. Yuri still could not believe that he did that. What if Yuuri Katsuki did retire? THEN IT WOULD BE ALLHIS FAULT!

* * *

To Victor Nikiforov this was all pretty dull. He had won the gold medal, again. It was just as he had expected and there absolutely nothing new about that. The only new thing that he actually saw on that ice was his rink mate and junior agent, Yuri Plisetsky, sitting in an ideal seat in the audience with optimal view of the ice. For a second, he wondered exactly why the teenager was sitting there but he did not spend too much time dwelling on it.

After accepting his medal, Victor was led off to a press conference as usual. The reporters asked him about his future plans to which he was not sure about yet. Following that he had changed out of his skating costume and into his red and white Russian tracksuit. He walks with Yuri as the two begin to make their way over to meet with Yakov so they could begin to prepare for the banquet.

"Yura," he says, "You did well tonight but I think your step sequence could use a little work."

"I won didn't I so who really cares?" retorts Yuri, "quit nagging me."

As Yakov began to do his usual post skate talk with Yuri, Victor watches as his young rink mate began to look around at the crowd. To his surprise he found Yuri focusing his attention on one person and judging by his gaze, not too far away from them. In concern, Victor turns slightly to look out of the corner of his eye; had they been caught by an enemy?

But it turned out to be the opposite. To Victor's surprise, his attention catches on one of the most beautiful colours he had ever seen in his life. It was the reddish-brown eyes of a young fairly handsome Asian man. A quick tug at his heart and victor immediately knows he needs more of those eyes in his life, so he spins around, shocking the owner of those beautiful eyes.

"You want to get a photo?" he asks eagerly.

Yuuri's eyes widen in shock when he heard those words and his shoulders dropped.

Victor did not understand why the man suddenly looked so disappointed.

"Sure this," continues Victor with a bright smile and a small poise.

Yuuri's eyes widened in shock at the outright insult from Victor Nikiforov as it broke his heart. _'He didn't recognize me. To him I'm just another fan….'_

Today had been too much for him so he turns around and makes his way out of the building. His back facing Victor Nikiforov.

Victor didn't understand the other man's reaction's to his words. He knew that the man was disappointed but the amount of hurt that flooded the man's gorgeous eyes was unreal. It was like his heart was already shattering when he offered a picture. Now his heart was breaking as he watches the other man walk away with his back to him shoulders hunching over, as if to protect from the hurt Victor just caused.

"Nice going there, Vitya," Yuri scoffs at him, causing him to look over at the younger skater.

"You know him, Yura?" asks Victor curiously.

"Yeah and so should you. He's only the best skater in all of Japan, old man," retorts Yuri as he glares at Victor – giving him a look that Victor recognizes as Yuri's enemy glare – surprising him. "Yuuri Katsuki, he was one of your competitors."

* * *

 **Thank you all very much for your support and for commenting, favouriting, following and most importantly reading this.**

 **3rd Skate: Banquet scene anyone?**


	3. 3rd Skate: Banquets and Dance Offs

**Hi everybody, sorry about the delay! I have been a bit busy and I want to thank all of you for all the support on the last chapter! I am glad that you all liked it and I hope that you all will like this one too!**

* * *

"Are you sure that this will work?"

"Yuuri…it's me."

"Yes I know Phichit."

"Katsuki Yuuri, the Kitsune of Japan, remember that you're talking to the man who can wing his eyeliner _**DRUNK.**_ "

Yuuri sighs while Phichit continues to apply concealer to the wound. Why was Celestino even making him go to the gala? Especially after he had embarrassed himself during the free skate? This was supposed to be his big moment! He was going to bring back a silver – or at least bronze – medal to Japan but due to his own stupidity and injury, he would not be doing so. Instead, he would be returning to his training rink in Detroit with a 6th place finish and nothing to show for it in Japan.

But most of all, Yuuri had embarrassed himself in front of _his idol_. Victor Nikiforov – the five time gold medalist – was there. Victor Nikiforov was definitely attending the gala. Victor Nikiforov didn't know who he was and that he was even a competing skater. Victor Nikiforov only saw him as a fan and nothing more. He wasn't even a skater in the other man's eyes. He wasn't worthy of being recognized as a competitor in his idol's eyes. How could Yuuri even consider attending a gala that Victor Nikiforov would definitely be considered a guest of honor at? He doubts that he should even be allowed to breathe the same air as the gorgeous, talented man.

"If you're thinking what I think you're thinking about Yuuri, then stop it."

The Japanese man is immediately pulled from his thoughts at the sound of his teammate/best friend's voice. He had been so distracted by his thoughts that he had never noticed that Phichit had finished the make-up job on his injury and was now face to face with him. Phichit's mocha coloured eyes glare daggers at him and Yuuri wonders what could have brought about this anger from his friend. Phichit was usually the cheerful and happy one out of the two of them so seeing the typically jovial man glaring at him like that is a bit unsettling.

"Phichit," begins Yuuri nervously.

"Don't you dare think that you're not worthy of going to the same party as Victor Fucking Nikiforov," growls Phichit at him. "If anything, he isn't worthy of even _glancing_ at you!"

"Phichit…."

"Don't let that jerk's comment get the best of you, Yuuri," continues Phichit as he continues to give Yuuri a hard look. "You're the best in all of Japan and were the only Japanese skater out on the ice. Don't you dare sell yourself short!" Phichit lets out of huff before a jovial grin appears on his face once more. "Besides, it's understandable that you wouldn't be performing great. You were injured."

Yuuri stares at his friend in confusion as he tries to wrap his mind around the words that Phichit was using. Phichit was only trying to make him feel better about the situation. He knew that Phichit was doing his duty as a friend, teammate, and rinkmate but right now, Yuuri just wanted to dwell amongst his darker more honest thoughts. He knows the truth of the matter and that was that Victor Nikiforov saw him as nothing more than a fan and that was it. He often dreamt of skating on the same ice as the Russian Skating God but the one time he was allowed to do so, he fails miserably and makes a fool of himself.

But Phichit would never let him think such thoughts around him. No, Phichit would do everything in his power to drive them all away no matter what Yuuri desires to do with them. Phichit would not allow it. However, between the two of them, Yuuri was the better agent and could easily conceal his emotions. So Yuuri does what he does best out in the field; he puts on a mask and offers his best friend a gentle smile. The smile was disgustingly fake in Yuuri's own eyes and it hurt for him to pull such an expression on his friend. Phichit deserves better than him.

"Alright Phichit," he says, "I will try."

"Don't try," says Phichit to him. "Do it. I want you to go and enjoy the gala. You deserve it for performing."

Yuuri looks at his friend in confusion now. "Aren't you coming with me?"

Phichit shakes his head in response. "Nah, Celestino asked me to keep tabs on what the enemy's next move might be tonight. You can never tell with the Russians, especially with Firebird being as active as he is." A worried expression forms on his face. "The fact that he was here in Sochi is a bit unsettling, Yuuri."

"We're in _Russia_ , Phichit," says Yuuri with a slight roll of his eyes. "Of course there are gonna be Russian agents roaming around here. They're probably waiting for one of us to make a move on all the "famous" and "defenseless" figure skaters."

"But are they concerned enough to bring out the Firebird?" counters Phichit as his eyebrows furrow together. "I'd understand if it were someone like Domovoi or even higher like Rusalka but Firebird? I mean, I get that this is a big international skating competition and we don't want any skaters just dropping dead but Firebird is overkill."

Yuuri gives Phichit a blank expression at that. "Hamtaro…you do realize that we're both here right?"

Phichit waves Yuuri off. "Yeah, but you were competing in the Grand Prix, Kitsune. That's entirely different from just stationing a top ranking agent in a city for an event." He gives Yuuri a hard look. "Think of it this way, if you were assigned to guard Worlds in Tokyo this year, what would you think?"

Yuuri was about to retort when he stops to think. He remembers seeing the list of agents assigned to guarding Worlds this year and none of them were at either his or Phichit's level. The agents that typically got guard duty were pretty mid ranged, slightly higher at best meaning that they at least had a small name on the international stage. It meant that they were definitely _not_ Hamtaro or Kitsune and _most definitely_ not Firebird.

"You have a point," says Yuuri as he gets up and begins to button up his shirt again. "Do your best tonight and let me know if anything comes up."

Phichit gives him a thumbs up before tossing him his tie.

* * *

Yuuri Katsuki just entered the room.

Yuuri Katsuki is within breathing space.

Yuuri Katsuki is in the same room as him.

YUURI KATSUKI IS WITHIN 2 METERS OF HIM!

is no longer functional.

Yuri's eyes are glued to the Japanese skater that just walked into the room with his Italian coach. He wonders if he should go up to him and ask for a picture? Would it be rude of him to do so? He did try to encourage his idol earlier. Did that warrant him being able to ask _the_ Yuuri Katsuki for a picture?

But judging by Yuuri Katsuki's posture, he was not really all too excited about having to attend the gala. Yuri could probably agree with the Japanese Ace about that. He didn't want to attend the gala either but for probably a different reason. Sure, Yuuri Katsuki did not skate his best performance during the free skate which cost him the podium but his performance was nothing to be ashamed of! His step sequences were enticing and just perfect! He should be happy about that. But if Yuri could see anything, it was that Celestino had dragged Yuuri Katsuki to the gala.

* * *

He was in the middle of speaking to Yuri when he notices the younger Russian's eyes drifting away from him. Victor gives his younger teammate a mildly disappointed look upon realizing that he was no longer pay attention and decides to follow the younger boy's line of sight. His head turns to see the target of Yuri's attention behind him and his breath catches in his throat.

Standing 2 meters away from them was the gorgeous man with the reddish-brown eyes. His shoulders were slumped in defeat as his arms just hung at his sides. Victor sees Celestino's arm around the younger man's shoulders and he can guess what happened. Celestino probably dragged the Japanese Skater to the gala.

"Yuuri Katsuki," he hears Yuri whisper. "He's standing right there."

He watches as Yuuri Katsuki make his way to an empty corner of the room near a collection of champagne glasses. He watches as the younger Japanese man quickly down one glass of champagne and grab another. Victor wants nothing more than to go over there and start a conversation with the man when he catches a young couple walking over to him out of the corner of his eyes.

They are dressed in a way that says that they are important figures in the room. That meant that he was required to speak to them as he was the gold medalist…again. Victor didn't want to speak with them but he was required to. He had to look good in front of a crowd no matter how much he hated speaking with these simpletons. They were all so boring with their "impressive" words and questions asking about his future. But Victor tries to make the most of it by standing in a way that he could watch the Japanese skater drink away his sorrows.

* * *

He is standing with the other coaches, sharing small talk with them as he watches over his skaters. Mila was off gossiping with the female Italian silver medalist. Georgi was watching the evening through security cameras. Vitya and Yura, however, were standing together with their eyes fixated on something.

That was odd. Yakov takes a sip of his own drink as he continues to watch his two best agents maneuver their way through sponsors and important ISU individuals in an attempt to keep their eyes on someone in the room. He wonders if they somehow how had found a threat in the room but then again, judging by their eyes, it wasn't an enemy. The look in Yura's eyes was something of admiration, a look that Yakov was used to seeing when fans and other skaters look at his Vitya. But the look in Vitya's eyes was one that he rarely ever saw anymore.

It was a look of fascination and interest. But there was more than that from what Yakov could see and he knew. Yakov has worked with Victor for over twenty years and the boy was practically his son. If anyone can read his son's eyes, it was most definitely him. There was of course fascination and interest, but underneath that was lust and hunger. Yakov has seen that look in Vitya's eyes very few times in his eyes and all those times when Vitya was in a "romantic" relationship or when Kitsune was mentioned. The young man was obsessed with ridding the world of the one target that has ever eluded him.

He follows Vitya's and Yura's lines of sight to the object of their affection and is surprised to see the young Japanese skater standing alone with only his empty glasses to keep him company. Yuuri Katsuki, Japan's Champion Skater. He is a good skater, which Yakov could agree with, but his performance at their current competition was far from impressive. He knew of Yura's admiration for the skater but other than that, the rest of his skaters were not interested in the young man. Yakov could see that the young man was skilled and would fit the bill for a good agent. No one would expect it either and it would bring him one step closer to eliminating Kitsune. Besides, it was hard for someone to interest Vitya the way that the probably tipsy young man was doing right now.

He watches as the young man soon put down what he counts to be his 16th glass of champagne – if the glasses littering the table near him said anything – and begins to loosen his tie and stuff it into his pocket. Yakov takes another sip of his drink and begins to observe the boy a bit more; things were about to get very interesting and he could see that both his Vitya and Yura were interested as well.

* * *

He _could_ Google how to possibly sober up a cute Japanese man quickly. He could also just walk over there and try to sober him up _himself_. But then he would lose the opportunity to get pictures of all this. Besides, this was much more interesting than the conversations that he was having with the other party guests.

Victor spares his younger teammate quick glances and sees the younger male with his phone out and quickly snapping pictures unashamed. Yura's eyes were fixed on the older Japanese skater with surprise and amusement as he quickly presses the shutter button. To his surprise, the Japanese skater saunters over to them with a taunting grin on his face as he looks down at Yura. Victor looks at the two curiously wondering what could have caused this action. He had never seen the two interact before.

"You," says Yuuri Katsuki as he pokes Yuri Plisetsky. "Dance off. Against me. Right now."

If Victor had any less self control than he did now, he would had taken out his phone and taken a picture (or 7) of Yuri. He can tell that the boy was internally screaming judging by the blush on his face and look in his eyes. He had a thought that the younger skater looks up to Yuuri Katsuki or at least admires him.

"You better watch it, loser!" spits Yuri as he follows after Yuuri Katsuki to the dance floor. "You're going down!"

"DJ!" shouts Yuuri Katsuki, "Play something a little more fitting!"

According to Yuri Plisetsky, Yuuri Katsuki was a good skater. After reviewing the competition footage on his phone, Victor Nikiforov wonders what could have happened between the short program and free skate with Yuuri Katsuki. The Japanese skater should have won at least bronze judging by his skills, but instead he fell into last place. Yuuri Katsuki was the only skater who made it into the GPF whose performance score outshone their technical score. Victor Nikiforov expects Yuuri Katsuki to have practiced ballet.

But apparently the Japanese skater was skilled in more than just ballet. Currently on the dance floor, he was break dancing against Yuri Plisetsky _and he was winning_. Victor no longer cares what these "important individuals" were saying to him, he has to capture all of his. He knows his memory is not the best so he has to get as many pictures of this as he can. He races away from the people he was supposed to be talking to, and over to the dance floor where he can get a better view.

"Something got your attention, Victor?" asks a familiar sultry voice behind him.

"Hey Chris," replies Victor, not turning around to face the Swiss Silver medalist and his best friend. "Not right now, I need pictures."

"Of Yuuri Katsuki, hmm?" hums Christophe as he takes a peek at his friend's phone, "I have to admit, he is interesting."

Victor nods as he continues to take pictures of the dancing duo until Yuri finally gives up. Victor can't help but chuckle at the sight of his younger teammate giving up due to being worn out while his older competitor was still raring to go. He watches as Yuuri Katsuki approaches them once more, that very same grin on his face. He gets close enough that Victor could practically smell the alcohol on his breath as Yuuri pokes his chest.

"You and me," he slurs, "Dance more."

Victor looks at him in surprise before a competitive grin slips on to his face. "Like I can refuse." He gives Yuri his phone. "Take pictures for me."

Though it was supposed to be a dance battle, Victor could not help but feel as if this was more a duet. When his body moves to the beat and melody of the music, so does Yuuri Katsuki's but his movements are in tandem with Victor's. Instead of countering Victor's every move, Yuuri moves with him. They move in sync with each other as opposed to against each other. If anyone were to comment on it, it would be as if the two had probably planned and rehearsed this. But they did not. To Victor's knowledge, he has never met Yuuri Katsuki before in his life. But here they were, dancing together as if they had known each other for years as opposed to being complete strangers. They seemed to understand each other without even knowing each other and Victor cannot help but want to know more about this man who seems to know him without knowing him.

"I concede," says Victor before he lets go of Yuuri Katsuki while staring into those beautiful eyes.

"You're not half bad yourself," replies Yuuri with a smile on his face.

"Our turn Yuuri!" says Chris's voice eagerly behind him. "And I have something special planned!"

Oh and it was special indeed. Victor Nikiforov could not care less about how Yuuri Katsuki performed at the GPF. Yuuri Katsuki was a beautiful and talented man and that was all that matters to Victor Nikiforov. Besides, Victor can think of many inventive and wonderful uses of pole dancing in the bedroom. But right now, he might as well enjoy watching as his best friend and potential lover perform on the pole as his potential lover become more and more intoxicated.

* * *

Yuuri Katsuki is the most graceful human being he has ever met in his life. Sure he has seen skaters like Victor and Mila and ballerinas such as Lilia perform before but none of them could even match the skill of Yuuri Katsuki. Though he has heavy doubts that someone his age should even be watching Christophe Giacometti and Yuuri Katsuki's elegant – if not a bit scandalous – pole dancing display.

Following that he watches as his idol drunkenly stumbles over to his older teammate, Victor Nikiforov, and starts hanging on to him. Yuri watches in surprise as he watches Yuuri Katsuki begin babbling in Japanese that left the others around them curious about what he could possibly be saying, but Yuri understood. He had taken up studying his idol's native language in hopes of one day meeting the skater and visiting him in Japan. Also, most of Yuuri's better interviews were in Japanese anyways and any _halfway decent_ Yuuri Katsuki fan would take up studying the language to get the best information.

" _Victor! My family runs a hot spring resort; when the season's over, you should come visit! He-hey! I got an idea! If I win the dance off, come to Hasetsu and be my coach! You'll do it won't you? Victor?"_ The pure happy innocence in Yuuri's eyes was what catches Yuri's attention.

No matter how drunk that man currently is, this request was something that he whole heartedly desired; though it was also something that he probably kept secret from everybody for a long time. Yuri knew that Victor was being affected by Yuuri's innocent eyes and his enticing actions judging by how frozen his teammate was. Victor was entirely focused on Yuuri and was just in awe of him. That awe was something that Yuri hadn't seen on the older skater's face in a long time.

"Be my coach!" Yuuri cheers in English before jumping on to the older Russian skater and hugging him more.

Yuri never believed in love just in sight until now. Just the way that Victor seemed to look at Yuuri said everything that needed to be said.

* * *

He spares a quick glance over at Celestino before looking back at the boy. The Italian coach had his attention elsewhere from his skater so this was his chance. He could not hear what the Japanese man had said to Vitya and the group of skaters and individuals around them but judging by Vitya's expression, it was something quite shocking. But much to his shock, Vitya was hugging the other skater back but there was something hiding underneath the glee in his eyes.

It was something that Yakov had seen a few times on Vitya and that was only when his teammates were hurt. It was protectiveness. But why would Vitya want to protect the Japanese skater of all people? To his knowledge, Vitya has only just met the Japanese skater so why was he so protective of him. But if Vitya was already so attached to the skater, then this might be the best option.

The other skaters part ways and the crowd breaks up as he makes his way over to the hugging pair. Vitya looks at him in surprise when he approaches. Yakov places on hand on Vitya's shoulder and nods towards the door. Vitya understands the message and begins to take Yuuri Katsuki with him out of the banquet hall. Once they are outside – with Mila and Yura – Yakov pulls Yuuri Katsuki from Vitya's grasps and pin him to the wall with a firm hand. The impact seems to sober him up a bit judging by the sudden clarity in his eyes.

"Yuuri Katsuki of Japan," says Yakov as he stares the young skater down. "You are quite the interesting person."

Yuuri does not respond but he also does not look away even though it is obvious that he's terrified.

"You have done something I find interesting," he continues, "You managed to capture Victor's attention which is a rare enough occasion that I cannot let slip by."

"Huh," whispers Yuuri.

"I want you to join us," says Yakov, "I don't make this offer lightly, join us as it is in Victor's interest."

"He's not interested," says a curt voice behind the group.

They quickly turn and see Celestino standing there. The tall, burly Italian man quickly makes his way through the Russians and grabs his skater back. Yuuri looks around in a daze before Celestino quickly covers his airways with a handkerchief. Yakov sees the distressed look in Victor's eyes as Yuuri Katsuki collapses. Yakov holds his best agent back and gives Celestino a hard look as the Italian man tosses the skater over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Yuuri is already busy with other plans and he does not have long in Russia," says Celestino curtly.

"Victor has already laid claim to the boy," says Yakov, still holding his best back, "and my Yuri also approves of him; therefore, we will be taking him."

"That will not be happening," retorts Celestino, "Katsuki has a family back in Japan."

The two coaches and supposedly retired agents stare each other down. They were challenging each other, daring each other to make a move. Victor's eyes are trained at Yuuri's prone form over Celestino's shoulder. Yuri is ready to make his move if asked. Mila is also ready to join the fray if necessary. Yakov knew that each of his present agents were ready to act at his command, but he could see a slight flash of light from the corner of his eye from down the hall. Celestino was not alone. The man would not have made such a bold move if he did not already have a plan of attack if necessary. The two leaders share one more harsh stare before Yakov decides to break the silence with a taunting grin on his face.

"So he is already aligned with the Italians," says Yakov boldly.

"Yuuri is not agent material and the Italians aren't interested."

"He is a good skater and would make a good match for my Victor," comments Yakov, smirking at the unconscious Japanese, "He would make a good Japanese wife to my Russian heir."

Celestino holds on to Yuuri tighter. "Yuuri is nobody's wife and the next person who tries is going to die. He is an independent skater who does not need a partner." He turns his attention to Victor, giving the Russian agent a harsh stare, "Especially if that partner is a Russian heir."

"You don't have the grounds to stop me, Celestino." The Italian man look back at Yakov in surprise as a smirk appears on his lips. "We in Russia always get what we want, especially since said Russian heir has the highest success rate."

* * *

Minako and Hiroko would kill him if anything were to happen to Yuuri. Though Minako was a terror in their world, Hiroko was someone who terrified her and that was something that Celestino could not handle. If someone could make even Minako scared, then they were someone that should not be messed with. Toshiya Katsuki would be the least of his problems if anything were to happen to his son. His wife would be the worst thing that could ever happen to Celestino if something were.

So Celestino says nothing back to the Russian group and makes his way out of the building and over to their hotel. As he walks, he takes out his work phone and makes a quick call.

"Zabaione?"

"Kitsune is down; he got too drunk at the banquet." Celestino hears the younger agent curse. "Hamtaro, make sure that _nothing_ leaks."

"Understood, Zabaione."

"Good."


	4. 4th Skate: Lingering

This was bad.

This was very, very bad.

His injury has not fully healed yet and here he was out in the field. Yuuri is pretty sure that his other injury has reopened and it is not helping that the freaking Firebird and his protégé are using him for target practice. He is well aware and has always been aware that Firebird had a student, a young agent called Bolshoi. It was similar to his own relationship with Toridon. The young agent would follow him around and shadow him on a mission every now and then just to get a taste of what would be expected of him in the near future.

'I really should have brought Toridon with me,' thought Yuuri bitterly as he ducks behind a nearby wall to. 'At least then I could have a bit more firepower.'

He takes a deep breath before leaning forward and pushing off into the alleyways once more. Yuuri's mission was supposed to be simple: go in, get the information, and get out. So far he has entered Belarus, gone to Brest, retrieved the information, and was now on his way back to Japan. But his own naiveté was his undoing this time around. Yuuri had decided to take a look around the city as an agent but his slipped up. Now here he is, running and hiding from Russia's top agent and his protégé.

"Come out, come out wherever you are, Kitsune," taunts the Firebird, "There's nowhere to hide."

Yuuri grits his teeth as he continues to run. He can't stop and argue with Firebird right now. He just needs to get away. Yuuri runs down the alleys and streets that he had found earlier on his walk around the city and on maps that he had seen. But being that he has not studied these maps as thoroughly as he would on previous missions, he pauses, still not all too sure about the city's layout and confident about his ability to navigate.

But he's been stationary and thinking for much too long.

* * *

This was his opportunity. The Kitsune with his familiar white fox half mask and black surgical mask was just standing still, right in front of him. It was like the man was lost and unsure of where to go. This is unlike any of their previous encounters where Kitsune would dodge him with ease and confidence. Obviously he was not prepped for this job as much as he should have been and that is good news to him.

Normally if he sees a target in this state of lost and frightened, he jumps at the opportunity. It makes it easy on him and he can easily just put a bullet in their brain and end them right there. He could even signal for little Yura to go in and make the kill himself on this mission. That would definitely make the young agent's day if he allows for Yura to kill Kitsune.

But that would only be allowed over Victor's own dead body.

"Bolshoi," he says into his Bluetooth. "Pull back. He's mine."

"What?!"

"He's mine Bolshoi. Pull back."

He waits for a minute before he hears Yura hiss, "Fine."

Kitsune has been his primary target for the past year. He has tussled with Kitsune several times prior to this moment. Like any stereotypical Asian, Kitsune was really good at hand-to-hand combat and Victor knew that if he wanted any chance of taking the fox out that way, he would have to surprise him. He fixes his shooting goggles and gives his gloves one last tug before tackling Kitsune to the ground.

As soon as they hit the dirt, they struggle for dominance. He attempts to keep Kitsune pinned to the ground and through hard punches into the other man's abdomen, knowing that the wound that he had put there not too long ago would still be there. He hears Kitsune gasp beneath his mask before releasing an angry growl. He is shocked when the other man wraps his legs around his waist and pulls him down until Victor is nearly face to face with him.

"Fuck you, Firebird," hisses Kitsune before he turns them over and attempts to return the favor. He stares up at Kitsune in surprise for a moment.

An amused smirk graces Victor's lips before he brings up a leg and kicks Kitsune's abdomen once more to knock the other man back on to his back. Victor takes that opportunity while the fox is wheezing to move towards him and to straddle the other man's hips while pinning his arms over his head.

"You know Kitsune," he purrs into the other agent's ear. "Had my heart not been stolen already by someone else, I'd love to have you."

"Fuck you!"

"Ah! I would rather do you instead," taunts Victor as he takes Kitsune's wrist into one hand and uses his other hand to slide down the black surgical mask so that he could see the other's lips. He quickly leans down and presses their lips together for a breath second before pulling back and getting off of Kitsune. "Having to kill you is so disappointing."

* * *

What disturbs him the most is that the voice sounds distantly familiar to him, as if he's heard it somewhere before. He cannot believe that practically let the Russian Firebird approach him like that and to be taken down by him so easily. He wants to scream his lungs out in frustration at that. He also can't believe that the Firebird had kissed him.

He wants nothing more than to

Rip

Him

Apart!

Through the pain and exhaustion, Yuuri quickly musters up the strength to swing a leg out at the Russian agent, knocking him to the ground before flipping over and bolting. There is no time for him to waste. He just has to leave as soon as he can. He does not have any backup in Minsk and he cannot risk another encounter with the Russian Firebird. As much as he wants to square off against the Russian man once more and to finally prove to him who was the better agent, Yuuri was in no way ready to handle another encounter. He boards the next flight out of Belarus to Japan and does his best to forget what just happened an hour ago.

His next major competition is the Japanese Nationals and to say that that was a major mistake would not be too far from the truth. Minako and his mother warned him about competing but his stubborn bullheadedness got the best of him. If he thought that the GPF Free skate had been his worst competition, he is severely mistaken. His injuries are nowhere near healed. Celestino tries to talk him out of this for that very reason many times but he competes anyways.

He competes anyways and falls to 11th place.

"Yuuri," says Minami's voice in concern as they meet in one of the backstage areas, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

He wasn't. He isn't.

His encounter with the Firebird had been the worst thing to happen to his career to date. He has never been forced to do this much paperwork in his life. He usually isn't even at his desk for longer than a month at a time. Sure, he's familiar with after mission paperwork that needed to be documented and filed, as well as debriefings, but this was definitely not his forte despite his degree being in accounting. Yuuri looks at the stack of paperwork on his desk mournfully before recounting the events that had transpired.

The Grand Prix.

The Mission.

Nationals.

All of which were failures due to his ability to perform and fight off that damn Russian! If that stupid man would sit still, Yuuri would destroy him. But they were agents struggling for power and dominance, so just expecting the other to sit still was impossible. They are each other's targets; they only live to kill the other. It's sad; really, because sometimes as he lay in bed at night, he wonders if they could have been good friends.

* * *

The shout in the Russian Intelligence Office could not have been any louder. One would think that someone has been murdered judging by the volume of the scream. He cannot believe what he just saw. There was absolutely no way that this could have possibly happened! He does everything he can to denounce any truth to what he has just seen. This cannot be happening. In a fit of anger he throws his empty bag of chips at his laptop as continues to seethe.

"Why did you scream Yura?" asks Victor's voice.

Normally, Yuri would take the time to greet his senior agent with a proper "fuck you" but this is hardly the time for that. He is still seething over what he has just seen. Plus, how dare Victor even pretend that he did not know what just happened? That was insulting of itself to the greatness that was Yuuri Katsuki.

"YUURI FUCKING KATSUKI TOOK 11TH AT THE DAMN JAPANESE NATIONALS!" screams Yuri in both shock and anger as he gestures wildly at his laptop screen. "HE'S THE BEST ONE THERE BUT HE FUCKING FAILED AND TOOK 11TH!"

"Now, now Yura," chides Victor gently with a stupid grin on his face. "Every skater has their off year and this just happens to be Katsuki's."

Yuri glares at Victor angrily and marches right up to his rink mate and partner. How dare he try and insult Yuuri Katsuki in front of him? Yuuri Katsuki was fifty times – if not more – the skater that Victor was despite the number of medals that Victor had. Yuri does not care who Victor Nikiforov thinks he is; Victor Nikiforov does not measure up to Yuuri Katsuki at all! Yuuri Katsuki is leagues ahead of the damn silver haired idiot in front of him and he will fight anyone who says otherwise!

Besides, it was just like the GPF. No matter how hard it looked like Yuuri Katsuki was trying to conceal an injury, Yuri knew that there was something wrong with his idol. Yuuri Katsuki looked as if he was in pain but there weren't any injuries reported about his favourite skater. Yuri begins to wonder if the Japanese man had hurt himself from sleeping wrong. It was entirely possible.

"You have off years but not Yuuri Katsuki!" argues Yuri before a second thought crosses his mind. He remembers the Japanese skater being very drunk when they attended the GPF banquet and being all over his senior in a drunken stupor. A look of realization quickly flashes across Yuri's face before he is on his feet and glaring at Victor again.

"Did you do something to him, you bastard?" spits Yuri as he pokes Victor, surprising the older skater. "Answer me! Did you do something to him at the banquet? Did you break him because if you did, I'll break you!"

He sees Victor narrow his eyes at him for just a brief second before placing a hand on his shoulder. Oh no, Yuri knew that he fucked up this time. There were rumors that routinely circulate around the base about angry Victor but Yuri's never been on the receiving end of a Victor scolding/lecture. But then again, judging by how quickly Victor dispelled that look of anger, it probably is not going to be that bad? Right?

"Oh Yura," says Victor's smooth voice. "You must understand; I did nothing to Katsuki that night. His coach, Celestino, would not let us have him no matter how much Yasha demanded him. I would have loved to spend the night with him though…."

"Knock it off old man!"

* * *

It is hilarious to see Yura so flustered at the tiny mention of him wanting to be with the young blond's idol. He can almost see the Yura wanting to jump at him and fight him over the Japanese skater, but he could also see that Yura knows that he would not stand a chance against him if they were to fight. But he has to admit, it did hurt for the young teen to accuse him of hurting the Japanese skater. Victor would never do anything to harm Yuuri Katsuki; there was no reason for him to harm him, unlike Kitsune….

"But really,Yura," he says, "The only one that I really want to hurt is Kitsune, I'd never lay a hurtful hand on Katsuki."

"Yeah," scoffs Yura. "I know. I saw you two rolling around on the ground as you beat the crap out of him." He then gives Victor an impressed look. "You did do a number on him."

"I know I did," replies Victor with his own smirk. "I am the Firebird and he is my target. My goal is like my namesake, to strike fear into his heart and bring ruin to him."

"Did you really have to be so freaking extra," groans Yuri. "You didn't have to do that little spiel there! I know what the Firebird is!" Victor smiles when he hears Yura add another comment under his breath. "A freaking champion, just like you."

He skates in Russian Nationals, the European Championships, and Worlds but there is no sign of his rival agent during these months. Usually he would square off with the Japanese Kitsune at least once a month but this time; he cannot find the other man at all. This was odd an unsettling to him. He would spend a week out of every month trying to find any and all the leads he could about Kitsune's whereabouts but he cannot find a single thing. It was if the Japanese agent just disappeared into thin air. Kitsune has disappeared without a trace and Victor cannot help but feel a little worried.

It really disturbs him when he is at Worlds more than anything else. This year the World Championships are held in Tokyo, Japan. Japan. Kitsune's home and hunting grounds. If he were to face off against Kitsune in Japan, he would have a far more difficult time than normal. But to his comfort and concern, Kitsune did not show up at Worlds as a guard agent as Victor had guessed. He could see other Japanese agents milling around the venue but there were no signs of Kitsune even being there. That is when it feels as if ice has dropped into his stomach.

Did someone beat him to the chase and kill off the Japanese agent? No. That couldn't be. The Kitsune was one of the best out there and if he had trouble killing that sly fox, then there was no hope for any other agent out there. No. Kitsune was definitely alive. Only he, the Russian Firebird would be capable of killing him! If any other agent even tried, he'd kill them!

But then, why hadn't he heard anything about Kitsune?

"You're worried aren't you?" asks Yura during practice one day.

"Why would you say that?" was the dull reply.

"You've lost your spark, old man," retorts Yura before looking away. "Look, I know you're wondering what's up with Kitsune. He hasn't shown up in months. Someone might have gone and done us a favour and off-ed him."

Victor lets out a laugh. "Ha! As if Kitsune would be killed off that easily! If he's given me a run for my money, then he won't be killed that easily."

"Then where the fuck is he?"

Victor does not know how to answer his protégé's question.

* * *

He knows that his injuries are his own fault but he still cannot help but feel resentful towards the Firebird when he passes his hands over the bandages. If it were not for that blasted Russian, he would be out there in the field tracking him down. He would be out there on the ice practicing for his next competitions. If Yuuri was for sure of one thing, he was certain that if he had not been injured then he would have won Nationals and be on his way to 4 Continents Championships and Worlds.

But because of those injuries, he is not participating. He would love to blame someone else for his injuries but they are his own fault. It is his own fault that he is confined to desk work until he is fully fit to be on the field again. He knows that he is one of the best agents out there at both field and desk work, but he would prefer to be out in the field if asked.

"How are you feeling Yuuri?" asks Phichit one day during one of their study breaks. Despite the fact that they were some of Interpol Asia's best agents, at the end of the day, they are just college students struggling to make top scores in their classes and earn their degrees.

"I'm fine Phichit," sighs Yuuri back as he continues to pick at the pint of matcha ice cream in his arms.

"Are you sure?"

"Maybe."

It is Phichit's turn to sigh now. "Yuuri, it's alright. You weren't in your best shape and honestly, you shouldn't have been competing with your injuries."

"I let so many people down."

* * *

"No," argues Phichit as he grasps at his best friend's/partner's shoulders and attempts to draw Yuuri from the recesses of his own mind. "Yuuri, you didn't let anyone down! Everybody is so proud of you for making it into the GPF! Your rinkmates! Your friends! Your country! Your family!" He takes Yuuri's face into both of his hands. "Nobody is disappointed in you for not placing high. Everybody is so proud and happy for you proving that you're one of the best skaters out there!"

"You don't get it Phichit," argues Yuuri.

Phichit gives his friend a long hard look as his best friend attempts to argue him. How could Yuuri not see how amazing he was as a skater? He wants nothing more that to beat it into his best friend's head that he was one of the best out there but there is no doubt in his mind that Yuuri would not believe him. Yuuri was smart – brilliant even – and so very talented. How many people can say that they knew a guy who could do ballet, ballroom, and pole dance? On top of that, how many people can say that they knew someone who could play piano and figure skate?

Not many people and Phichit is one of the lucky bastards out there who can.

But he is also one of the unlucky people who can say that they knew a person who did not value themselves. He could say that he was one of the people who would do anything in the world to just get their friend to believe that they were the best thing in the world. Phichit would love to say that he was not in this group of people but he is.

He would give anything to not be a member of this group.

"No, you don't get it Yuuri."


End file.
